


i found god (i found him in a lover)

by ryneisaterriblefan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Kissing, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Brother/Brother Incest, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hair Kink, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Jealousy, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Moaning, Praise Kink, Sharing a Bed, Sibling Incest, Twincest, Wet Dream, literally just., soft moments too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 15:22:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19832989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryneisaterriblefan/pseuds/ryneisaterriblefan
Summary: as time goes by, the seasons change and the miya twins don't.





	i found god (i found him in a lover)

**Author's Note:**

> this is incest i warned yall 
> 
> also like i had too much fun writing this lmao
> 
> The tags aren't complete but my phones fucking and I'll do it tmrw lmao also warning 
> 
> Top osamu and bottom atsumu but then with Hinata atsumus the top lmao
> 
> also! i havent read the manga (surprise surprise) so like the characterization might be off lmao and like. i just love them very much ok. i know nothing about them aside from the haikyuu wiki but i love them and they are my bois.

The first time, it’s an accident.

They’re playing around, knocking things over and pushing each other in a mad game of chase when Atsumu trips.

Osamu, right behind him, falls as well but Atsumu had been looking around, half-running backwards so when they fall, Osamu falls on top of his brother and before they have any time to balance themselves, Osamu’s chapped lips are pressing into Atsumu’s own.

It’s only a second, and after that, Osamu gets up, pulling Atsumu along with him. It’s like nothing has happened.

After all, they’re only nine. They’ve seen their parents kissing each other, and it’s not like it’s a really big thing. Kisses are meant for people you love, after all.

It was an accident.

(But that doesn’t mean it’s going to be the last time.)

The second time, it’s deliberate.

The second time, Atsumu’s just seen his senpai kiss a girl behind the school, near the vending machine. And with his childish wonder and amazement, wants to do it too.

‘Osamu!’ he yells, flinging his things down into their room, ‘I have an idea!’

Even at the age of twelve, Osamu knows when his brother’s going to be stupid, because, apparently, he’s born with a built-in Atsumu’s-going-to-talk-shit sensor.

‘No.’

‘Come on,’ Atsumu whines, looking at his brother with the largest puppy eyes he’s ever made, just because he knows his brother will sigh and give in, just like that.

‘What,’ Osamu finally says, looking away from his book and at Atsumu, who’s promptly decided to make himself home on Osamu’s bed. (Not that it matters, because he always sleeps on the same bed with his brother anyways.)

‘We should kiss!’

And as soon as the suggestion is made, it’s shut down, and Atsumu can feel the tears welling up in his eyes from his brother’s harsh refusal.

‘Why not?’

‘Because,’ Osamu shuts his book and sighs, ‘People only kiss when they love each other, Atsumu.’

‘I love you,’ Atsumu argues, ‘Why can’t we kiss?’

‘Because family members don’t kiss,’ Osamu replies, almost sensibly, but Atsumu wants this, and he isn’t backing down until he gets it.

‘Please, nii-chan,’ he pleads, crowding into his brother’s space, half-lying on top of him, ‘Please!’

‘No.’

‘Please.’

‘No.’

‘Come on,’ Atsumu whines, drooping his head onto his brother’s chest, ‘Pretty pleaseeee—‘

‘Fine,’ Osamu cuts him off, and before he can say anything more, Atsumu’s head’s being pulled forwards and Osamu’s pressed a soft kiss to his lips. ‘Happy?’

_Yes_ , is Atsumu’s first thought, _did your lips also feel warm and tingly?_

But, he knows he isn’t yet. ‘Osamu! That was so short! I didn’t even get a proper kiss,’ Atsumu pouts, but Osamu’s rolling his eyes but he’s not saying no, so—

Osamu pulls him upwards more, and Atsumu scrambles, placing himself more comfortably on top of his brother and then their lips are pressing into each other’s.

Nothing happens for a second. Atsumu peeks out, but Osamu’s eyes are closed, and Atsumu’s just barely getting used to the feel of his lips when—

Osamu opens his mouth, just a little bit, enough so that his tongue slides into Atsumu’s mouth and— _oh_ , no one’s ever said it would feel this nice—and Atsumu thinks his eyelashes flutter like a silly teenage girl’s, but his tongue’s sliding past Osamu’s and _wow_ that’s just really _nice_.

And all too soon, Atsumu’s being pulled away, and he just takes a moment to observe Osamu.

His brother looks cool and collected, but there’s this faint flush on his cheeks and ears that wasn’t apparent before, and Atsumu thinks his hair’s mussed up from when Osamu ran his hands through it while they were kissing.

‘Osamu—‘

‘Boys! Dinner!’

They scramble up from the bed, moment forgotten, and hurry their way out of the room.

‘Thanks,’ Atsumu mutters quietly as he passes his brother through the doorway.

Osamu lightly squeezes his waist in acknowledgement.

When they’re thirteen, their parents offer to move then into separate bedrooms. ‘They’re teenagers, it’s understandable,’ their mother says, and Atsumu and Osamu sneak back to their room to avoid getting caught.

That night, lying in the darkness, they face each other—a king-sized bed now, since their parents has found out earlier on that they liked sharing the same bed—and talk.

‘Do you want to go, ‘Samu?’

‘No.’ As always, his answer’s short, and blunt, but the next words come out with a hint of uncertainty. ‘Do you?’

‘No,’ Atsumu decides, tugging his brother close and hugging him. ‘I don’t wanna be away from you.’

‘We’re still in the same house,’ Osamu says, but Atsumu can feel the smile on his lips so he doesn’t argue more.

There’s a silence, and Atsumu thinks Osamu’s fallen asleep, cause his breathing’s evened out and his body, pressed against Atsumu’s, doesn’t have any tension in it.

‘Kiss me?’

Their whisper’s too quiet, and yet too loud at the same time, too loud in the dark of the night when Atsumu thinks his parents have fallen asleep and too loud because his heart stops and there’s only Osamu’s breath coming out steadily.

Or maybe it’s his own. He can never tell.

And—as much as he tries to resist, Atsumu can never refuse his brother of anything. So he shifts around, and kisses Osamu.

His brother’s lips are always cold. His lips are cold but Atsumu never really minds, because his are too warm and he welcomes the coolness on his skin once in a while.

Atsumu holds Osamu closer when he makes a small noise, almost crushing him with his weight and pressing harder with his lips and—

All of a sudden, he can’t breathe.

Atsumu draws back, blinking rapidly—he hadn’t even known he was crying until Osamu’s cheek brushes against his and he can feel the warm wetness on them.

‘’Tsumu,’ Osamu says quietly, ‘Are you okay?’

_No_ , he wants to say. _No, because this is all sorts of wrong and terrible and we’re brothers and we’re not supposed to feel like this—_ I’m _not supposed to feel like this and ‘Samu it hurts it hurts so much—_

‘’Tsumu,’ his brother says again, ‘’Tsumu, look at me.’

Atsumu does, and he can just barely make out his features in the shadowy moonlight. The features that are so similar to his own, and yet so different.

‘I love you,’ his twin says, holding him close. ‘You’re a dumbass and an idiot and stupid but you’re my idiot and I’m not going to let anyone take you away from me.’

His brother’s words of love shouldn’t comfort him.

They do. They comfort him so much and Atsumu just kisses Osamu again and he thinks he might crush his twin but he holds strong, just like he always has and _god_ Atsumu loves him so fucking much and it hurts so much.

‘I love you, ‘Samu,’ Atsumu whispers into the depths of the night, when he’s done crying and Osamu’s fast asleep. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he needs to get out from his chest and so much he should feel bad about, but—

Everything can wait another day.

(Their parents are surprised when the two of them reject the separate rooms; they each get new phones instead.)

Atsumu and Osamu are teenage boys. That is a fact. It is also a fact that boys, teenagers especially, get “morning wood”.

And usually, that’s not a problem. Atsumu either lets it go by itself or takes care of himself in the bathroom. Osamu just lets it die down because he’s a lazy shit.

What has never before happened though—not yet—is Atsumu having a wet dream. He knows Osamu’s had once since they were younger, but he’s yet to have one and—

_Long fingers ghost over his skin, and Atsumu shudders. The fingers slide down, dipping into the crevice of his spine, and Atsumu whimpers a little as hands rub over his back. He’s only wearing his boxers, he realizes._

_There’s a laugh above him, and then Atsumu doesn’t even turn, because he knows he trusts this person. The hands rub over his shoulders and Atsumu sighs as he closes his eyes._

_Suddenly, there’s a weight on his upper legs and Atsumu turns around to see the figure sat on him. The stranger holds him down, and Atsumu relaxes into the pillows in front of him._

_He doesn’t know how long this goes on, but then the weight is gone and Atsumu feels cold all of a sudden, but before he can really do anything, the figure’s placing a blindfold over him and Atsumu fumbles, but the other person holds him steady and Atsumu feels safe and warm._

_Then lips are on his. They’re achingly familiar, and Atsumu melts, holding practically no resistance to the person that’s touching him. Atsumu kisses back with fervor, lips burning and arms shaking as he wraps his hands around the other person’s waist._

_And then—and then he’s being stripped, and then the figure’s taking off his boxers and taking Atsumu in hand and he keens, breathing coming out erratically and whimpers growing louder with every touch._

_The hand moves away for a minute and then Atsumu whines, desperately trying to get some release but—_

_There’s something warm and wet on his cock, and he chokes, gasping and hands flailing around in search of something to hold onto. He eventually finds the person’s hair, and he grips onto it, whimpering as the warmth goes deeper down on his cock._

_And then—Atsumu’s not sure what happens, but then he’s lying on his back and his arms are around the person’s neck and he’s grunting as he fucks into Atsumu. Their movements are irregular, but there’s a rhythm only the two of them understands._

_But the blindfold’s sliding off. Atsumu feels it loosen, and then just as Atsumu cries out, it slips down and then—_

_His mirror image stares back at him._

_Atsumu’s eyes go wide, and he moves him mouth, but there’s nothing coming out but then he’s fucked one last time and it’s as he holds eye contact that he comes and—_

‘Atsumu!’

Atsumu jerks awake, spasming for a second before he blinks and the dark room sharpens into focus. The glowing red numbers on the clock read 1:02.

‘’Tsumu,’ the voice says again, and Atsumu blinks one more time before making out his brother in the darkness.

‘Huh?’

‘What,’ Osamu says, but then he pauses, as if he’s searching for the right words, and then, softly, barely audible, ‘What were you dreaming about?’

‘Um,’ Atsumu says, ‘about—‘

And then. And then he remembers. It takes him a moment, but he remembers the way his brother’s cold caress had warmed him up to the depths of his core, the way his voice, gravelly and still rough from frequent voice breaks, had send shivers down his spine.

Why would Osamu be asking?

‘What did I do,’ Atsumu says, and his voice comes out croaky, shaky and then it seems Osamu doesn’t really know what to say.

Then—Osamu fumbles in the dark, but then he grasps Atsumu’s wrist and Atsumu lets him, until his fingers are grazing something wet and warm and sticky on Osamu’s thigh and—

‘Oh no,’ Atsumu breathes. ‘Oh no.’

‘’Tsumu—‘

‘No!’He doesn’t yell but it’s something close, and he almost hits his head on the bedside table as he scrambles to get up, ‘Fuck, ‘Samu, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do it, please don’t hate me—‘

‘Atsumu.’ His voice isn’t loud, but Atsumu stills anyways, and curses himself for shivering at how _assertive_ his brother’s voice sounds. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He shouldn’t be feeling this way towards his brother, but he is, and that’s what makes him so guilty.

‘Come back,’ his brother says, and Atsumu does, limbs screaming at him not to, but his brother’s voice is stronger and it compels him to lie down beside Osamu again. He still can’t look into his eyes.

There’s a short pause, and then Osamu flicks on the lamp beside his. Atsumu blinks as Osamu grabs tissues off the table and wipes the mess on his leg away.

God, he’s terrible. To have a dream like that about his brother—it’s something Atsumu can’t really turn back from.

‘Look at me.’ Osamu’s face is carefully blank as Atsumu looks, and there’re shadows on his from the light behind him.

‘Sorry,’ Atsumu says, and it feels too loud.

His brother doesn’t say anything, just stares at him levelly and Atsumu’s just starting to squirm when Osamu asks, ‘What were you dreaming about.’

It’s—it’s posed as a question, but it’s a statement, and Atsumu knows that he won’t budge until he’s satisfied.

‘I,’ Atsumu gulps. ‘I was lying on a bed. Someone was rubbing my back.’

Osamu makes a small noise of acknowledgement.

‘And then he blindfolded me. And then we—we made out and then he,’ Atsumu stops, and his face is burning, ‘He touched me.’

‘Wasn’t he touching you before?’ his twin asks, and, no, that can’t be _amusement_ Atsumu hears on his lips.

‘Yes but,’ Atsumu groans, ‘He touched my dick, okay? And then it switched to him giving me a blowjob and then—‘

He comes to a stop, casting is eyes downwards. He becomes aware of the distance that he’s put between him and Osamu.

‘And then?’ Osamu prompts.

‘Then,’ Atsumu swallows, closes his eyes, ‘Then he was fucking me. He was fucking me and then the blindfold slipped off and then. And then I found it was you.’

‘Hm,’ his brother says. ‘Anything else.’

‘I—I came, and then you woke me up.’

‘Coincidentally,’ Osamu muses, ‘you came as well in real life.’

Atsumu squeezes his eyes shut and nods.

There’s shuffling around and then there’s an arm draped over him and fingers are dipping into the same place on his back in his dream and Atsumu can’t help the whine that leaves his lips.

‘You know,’ Osamu says, trailing his hand up Atsumu’s back, ‘You’re pretty.’

Atsumu’s eyes shoot open, and then Osamu’s other hand comes up to hold his chin, so that he can’t move.

‘Is this a roundabout way of boasting?’ Atsumu tries to laugh, but Osamu drags his nails lightly on his back and the question comes out as a garbled moan.

‘No,’ Osamu says, blunt and simple, ‘You really are.’

Atsumu can’t do anything but close his eyes and move closer to his brother, taking in his scent. He reminds Osamu of home.

He doesn’t react when Osamu’s lips meet his, tries to not react when Osamu presses him close against himself, and fails to not react when Osamu suddenly rolls him over and lies on top of him.

Atsumu’s eyes shoot open.

Osamu doesn’t really loom over him, but it feels like it, as Atsumu gulps and sticks his arms to his side and resolutely doesn’t look at his brother’s eyes.

‘Look at me.’

Atsumu doesn’t.

There’s a sigh, and Osamu kisses him, again and again, using teeth and tongue and his lips are soft and he kisses Atsumu until he’s lightheaded and dizzy and Atsumu thinks they’re probably going to be bruised, but god it’s so good and he doesn’t even know he’s gripping his brother’s waist until he pulls away for a moment.

Atsumu gasps and tries to get enough air in him again.

‘It’s okay,’ Osamu says softly, ‘It’s okay.’

And it hurts for Atsumu to deny it. But he does, because it’s the _right_ thing to do. But as soon as the apology leaves his lips—he knows it isn’t.

‘It’s okay,’ Osamu repeats, ‘I’ve felt like that too.’

Atsumu stops.

‘I—‘ this time Osamu looks away, getting on his elbows beside Atsumu’s head, ‘I’ve had dreams about you too.’

‘Wha—‘ Atsumu starts, and then stops, and then starts again, ‘But I never knew?’

‘That’s because you’re a dumbass.’ At Atsumu’s face he chuckles a little. ‘Seriously, you never woke up.’

‘But—‘ Atsumu doesn’t really have anything to say. Not when his brother’s staring at him with half-lidded eyes and a smirk that Atsumu shouldn’t feel as flustered by as he is.

‘But what,’ Osamu says, brushing his lips over Atsumu’s.

‘Nothing,’ Atsumu mumbles, and drags Osamu down to kiss him.

It’s different from before. It’s different, because this time their breaths are hot and heavy and Atsumu moans into the kiss as Osamu twirls his tongue around his own and _fuck_ Atsumu’s breathless.

‘Can I?’ Osamu asks, and it takes Atsumu a moment to realize that he’s asking for permission to slide his hand into his boxers and that he’s hard as fuck.

‘Yes,’ Atsumu gasps, ‘yes, ‘Samu, _please_ —‘

His brother’s hand closing around him makes Atsumu let out a choked moan, and he scrabbles as Osamu strokes him slowly.

‘Y’know,’ Osamu says, watching him carefully and he takes Atsumu apart with just his hands and voice, ‘You were moaning for me in your sleep.’

Atsumu’s startled squeak is swallowed up as Osamu kisses him, and then continues, ‘You were moaning, and humping my thigh like a little _whore_.’

Atsumu keens, barely stops himself from coming, and hides his burning face in Osamu’s neck.

He feels his brother let out a pleased little laugh, and normally—normally Atsumu would feel weak and despised if anyone else ever had this kind of leverage over him, but—but this is _Osamu_ and this is his brother, and there’s no one Atsumu trusts more than him.

Osamu pulls his boxers off, and Atsumu whimpers as Osamu takes him and hand again, stroking his dick and still whispering into Atsumu’s ear.

‘Look at you. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already a _mess_ ,’ Osamu grins, ‘Does the thought of your brother jerking you off _really_ turn you on that much?’

Atsumu can only whimper and nod.

And then Osamu pulls back, his hand languidly still on Atsumu’s dick and then Atsumu can see from the faint light the tent in Osamu’s boxers and _holy fuck he’s going to hell because no one should be turned on by their own brother’s boner fucking god_ —

‘You look so pretty like this,’ Osamu says, as if he’s just complimenting Atsumu and not jerking him off, ‘I bet you’d look pretty with your come all over yourself.’

‘ _Hah_ —that’s disgusting,’ Atsumu pants, deciding to forgo the fact that it makes him even harder—not that it passes over Osamu’s head.

‘Hm,’ his brother contemplates, and then, ‘Cute.’

In his entire lifetime (most of which he’d never ever heard about wanking), Atsumu’s never thought he’d come at his brother calling him cute and jerking him off. Well, he’s never thought that Osamu would be jerking him off _period_ so it’s a moot point, really.

Atsumu clenches his eyes and moans and whimpers, white overtaking his vision as he shudders through his orgasm. He tries to ignore the fact that his brother watching makes him feel too exposed and turned on and embarrassed but bold at the same time.

‘Wow,’ Atsumu hears as he comes back to his senses, ‘Coming just from me calling you cute?’

Atsumu turns his head to the side and groans. He peeks out to see the clock. 3:12. Maybe he can just fall into a coma before he has to go to school.

‘Oh no,’ Osamu’s voice says from above him. ‘You’re not going to sleep after this.’

Atsumu whimpers and turns to face him.

‘What?’

Osamu flops down beside him and shrugs off his own boxers. He gestures lazily to his dick, then lies back. ‘Do something about this.’

‘And what makes you think I will?’ Atsumu says crabbily, just because he can.

‘You don’t like being in debt,’ Osamu says, and Atsumu curses his twin for knowing him so well. ‘So. Get to it, I’m getting cold.’

Atsumu curses him, but Osamu barely spares him a smirk before settling down. And Atsumu awkwardly stays between his legs.

‘Well,’ Osamu says, opening one eye to look down at Atsumu, ‘Go on. Unless you’re too scared?’

Atsumu knows it’s a challenge, from the way his eyes gleam and his smirk that Atsumu’s growing all too fond of.

Huffing, Atsumu leans down and licks the tip of Osamu’s dick.

The way Osamu jerks is almost unnoticeable; it _would_ be unnoticeable by anyone else, but it’s Atsumu, and Atsumu knows his brother as much as he knows himself.

He moves back a bit, and lies down so he can stay on his elbows and continue licking Osamu’s dick slowly.

The first time his mouth closes around his length, Osamu groans and _fuck_ Atsumu thinks he might be getting hard again.

He keeps going like this, Osamu letting out occasional grunts and Atsumu—Atsumu’s slightly awed and disgusted at himself for actually _liking_ to give a blowjob—to his _brother_ , no less. God, he’s twisted.

Osamu’s hand is lying beside him, and Atsumu grabs it and places it on his head. Almost immediately, his brother’s hand fists in his hair, and Atsumu would be lying if he didn’t rut the sheets below him from the small spike of pain.

It doesn’t take very long for Osamu to come—Atsumu chalks it up to it being his first time rather than his own expertise—and Atsumu swallows as much as he can, but some of it still dribbles out of his mouth and _god,_ Atsumu probably looks like a mess and he wants to hide himself but he can’t even bury his face in the sheets in fear of staining them.

It can’t get worse, right?

Wrong.

Osamu chooses to open his eyes right after that, and Atsumu averts his gaze. (If he’d looked, he’d have seen that his brother’s blushing the prettiest shade of red.)

‘Don’t move,’ Osamu says, shuffling, and Atsumu can’t bring himself to do anything else until Osamu settles down again. ‘Look up.’

As soon as he does, there’s a camera shutter sound, and Atsumu’s brain takes all of one minute to process that there’s _photographic proof_ of what they’ve done.

‘Osamu!’ he shrieks, uncaring of the way his mouth is still ringed with his brother’s cum.

‘Go wash your face, moron,’ Osamu says, and Atsumu, grumbling the entire time, does.

(When he comes back, Osamu’s still naked and asleep. Atsumu considers deleting the photo, but then decides against it. Yawning, he throws an arm around Osamu and smiles when Osamu cuddles into him.)

Things—things don’t necessarily _change_ between them. They still snap at each other, they still make playful retorts to each other and they still cuddle and sleep beside each other at night. Nothing really changes.

Except it does.

It changes when Atsumu and Osamu walk to school, when they talk in hushed whispers instead of Atsumu’s usual exuberance and Osamu’s calm demeanor.

It changes when Atsumu starts noticing his brother more. He notices how his brother, especially because of volleyball, seems to be focused and intense and—his body’s smooth, and Atsumu starts to think he knows his brother’s body better than he knows his own.

He starts to notice the way Osamu’s hair falls in his face, the way he reaches up to brush it to the left, as opposed to Atsumu, who pushes it to his right, and he notices the way Osamu stretches and bends and—Atsumu shouldn’t be thinking about this.

(Funnily enough, he’d once been caught staring at Osamu eating a popsicle and hadn’t even realized he’d popped a boner until Osamu lowered his eyes downward suggestively.

He doesn’t know whether to feel bad for jerking off in a public toilet to his twin, but he definitely feels bad that he doesn’t feel bad.)

The only time they’re different—physically—is during their teenage years.

Atsumu still feels petty because—he had to suffer through two whole summers to grow into who he is now, okay, and Osamu had literally just achieved that in _one_ fucking month.

And, yes, maybe he laughed too much at the way his younger brother lumbered around the house like an overgrown giraffe when he wasn’t used to his newfound height yet, and at the way his voice cracked a thousand times a day and how he couldn’t seem to yell at Atsumu because his voice has broken right when he’d opened his mouth.

In the shadows of the night, Atsumu admits to himself (and Osamu) that he finds it endearing.

(Osamu laughs and envelops him in a cuddle. He gets the position of the big spoon for now.)

Sometimes, they get frustrated. With volleyball, with schoolwork and with fights they’ve had or anything that’s happened.

And when they get frustrated, they take it out on each other. They snarl and claw at each other and they bite and they fight, and they’re akin to wild animals.

(The light shines inside Osamu’s eyes brightest at times like this and Atsumu would be lying if he said it doesn’t excite him.)

And then they rip each other apart. It’s worse when their parents aren’t at home, when they’re away for a business trip and they have the entire place to themselves.

Atsumu’s always the one who’s given in.

It’s not—it’s not because Osamu’s forced him to or anything—he knows Osamu will back off if Atsumu ever showed a sign of hesitance.

It’s more like Atsumu wants Osamu to earn his place. And it seems Osamu knows this as well, because he fights along. When things get physical, Osamu grins and throws punches and always, _always_ makes sure to pin Atsumu’s wrists down.

And then, and then they make out furiously, and then they get each other off and then they cuddle and then they fall asleep, more often than not.

(It’s a routine Atsumu’s becoming scarily familiar with.)

Atsumu likes being a brat.

That may not be known to a majority of people, but Osamu knows. And—and there’s just this one _thing_ which is like—almost like a routine for both of them.

Atsumu becomes a brat.

Osamu raises an eyebrow or chuckles.

Atsumu continues being bratty.

Osamu beckons him over, Atsumu either listens or doesn’t, and then Osamu’s rough.

Osamu gets rough and Atsumu’s much too turned on by it to be considered ‘normal’, but he doesn’t care, Osamu doesn’t seem to care, and the world can go fuck itself if it thinks this is wrong.

(Because this is the most _right_ he’s ever felt.)

It’s when they’re first years in Inarizaki that he starts getting admirers.

Of course, he doesn’t really mind. He appreciates the support, even if it’s for his looks rather than anything else. It seems Osamu doesn’t.

Ever since his ‘admirers’ started showing up to matches, his brother’s been snappish and distant, grumbling about something Atsumu can’t ever really decipher. It’s not like his play is affected by any of that, so it’s not like Atsumu has any reason to ask about it.

But—it’s frustrating. It’s frustrating that he can’t see what is brother’s thinking anymore, when it should’ve been all over his face. It’s frustrating how Osamu’s learned to close off from him and it’s like Osamu has something to hide from him.

Atsumu doesn’t like it. But he can’t do anything, so he ignores it and hopes it’ll go away.

(It lessens, but it never really does.)

The first time they actually, _truly_ , fuck, Osamu’s gentle. And their parents are away, so they don’t have to hide in darkness to do anything. It also means Atsumu’s fragile heart is subjected to Osamu’s piercing gaze.

(It’s also the first time Atsumu realizes, that maybe, just maybe, he’s in love with his brother after all.)

‘You look hilarious right now,’ Osamu informs him, while moving two fingers inside of Atsumu’s ass. It’s definitely a weird feeling, one which is mirrored on Atsumu’s face, is his twin’s comment is anything to go by.

‘Thanks, say that to a guy during sex,’ Atsumu grumbles, looking away, ‘Really makes a man feel happy.’

‘But you’re already happy with me, brother dear,’ Osamu teases, and he huffs out a laugh.

‘No I’m not—shit!’

Atsumu looks up, wide-eyed, at Osamu, and his brother only smirks. His fingers press insistently on that one spot and Atsumu _keens_ , arching his back and dripping the sheets beside him as tight as he can.

‘Holy shit,’ Atsumu gasps, ‘’Samu, what the—‘

‘Don’t you know it’s your prostate?’ Osamu asks, amusement clear in his voice and yeah, Atsumu wants to slap his brother for being like this.

‘Fuck you,’ Atsumu grumbles, and manages to keep his voice steady throughout the whole of those two words. After that, he whimpers like hell.

‘I thought we agreed on the opposite.’

Atsumu groans and uses his hands to cover his eyes.

He jerks when he feels a third finger enters, and then whines as Osamu keeps playing with his prostate. Damn, who knew it’d feel so good?

‘’Samu, ‘Samu, please— _hah_ —please, come _on_ —‘

‘Hm?’

‘Just fuck me already!’

‘Anything for you, princess.’

As he pulls his fingers out, he smacks Atsumu’s ass, resulting in a yelp—‘Osamu you brute!’

‘Shut up you like it.’

Atsumu shuts up.

‘You sure?’ Osamu asks, when he’s lining himself up with Atsumu’s ass.

‘What, you backing down now?’ Atsumu jokes, but his voice is shaky, and Osamu notices.

‘No, because if it hurts, you’re going to complain and I’d rather not hear it.’

‘Mean. Just do it.’

There’s no verbal response, but then Osamu pushes in slowly, and _holy fuck_ Atsumu feels like he should’ve been stretched more Osamu’s bigger than he thought he was, but then—

The stretch and burn becomes a pleasant edge and Atsumu thinks, _ah, there it is. My oh-so-helpful masochistic streak_.

Humming, Atsumu closes his eyes, breathing deeply until he thinks he’s gotten used to the stretch. He nods, and then—

Osamu starts fucking into him, small, languid thrusts at first, but then Atsumu urges him to go faster, but he doesn’t. Atsumu tries every trick in the book he knows to get his twin aggravated, but it doesn’t work, and Osamu smirks at him like he knows what Atsumu’s doing and god that annoys Atsumu to hell.

‘God, ‘Samu just— _fuck_!’ Because at this exact moment, Osamu chooses to snap his hips into Atsumu’s ass and he thinks he’s actually seeing stars from how much he’s been deprived.

‘Hm, yes?’

‘I hate you— _ah_!’

‘I know.’

And with that, he holds Atsumu by the hips and fucks _hard_ into him and Atsumu cries out, arms wrapping around Atsumu’s back and he thinks he’s scratching his back but who care because _god it’s fucking amazing shit—_

‘’Samu! Fuck,’ Atsumu almost sobs, ‘Samu, please—‘

His brother punctuates this with another hard thrust of his hips and Atsumu nearly _comes_ when Osamu growls, low and possessive in his ear.

‘’Samu,’ Atsumu chants his name, over and over, like he’s chanting a prayer and not like he’s being fucked and his legs shake from the force and _god,_ Atsumu thinks hazily, _I wanna stay like this forever._

‘Fuck, ‘Tsumu,’ Osamu groans, and even his voice gets Atsumu fucked up, ‘I’ve always wanted to fuck you. God, when you’re stretching in volleyball I just wanna take you and fuck into you so hard, god, ‘Tsumu—‘

Atsumu cries out, and he thinks he might actually come untouched if Osamu goes on like this, _fuck_ , and then Osamu murmurs, ‘Or when we’re changing. God, ‘Tsumu, I can just picture you begging on your knees to suck my cock. Look at you, a cute little slut. I bet you’d wanna have the entire team staring at you, huh?’

Atsumu whimpers and cries out and _fuck_ Osamu’s voice is too _much_ and god he needs to come right _now_ —

‘Look at you,’ Osamu says, voice gravelly, ‘Begging for release like a whore. How’s it, huh? Being fucked open on my cock—you want it, don’t you? You just want your brother’s cock inside you like the little cockslut you are.’

Atsumu can’t do anything much other than nod and whimper.

Osamu’s thrusts get sloppy, and this is how Atsumu knows he’s going to cum, when he strokes Atsumu’s dick and his moans come out sounding a tiniest bit like Atsumu’s and fuck he’s a sucker for when Osamu gets brought to the brink like this.

(It makes him feel powerful. That no one besides him has ever seen Osamu like this. He thinks it’s some sort of vindictive pleasure. He doesn’t know who it’s directed towards.)

And then Osamu speeds but and then Atsumu thinks his moans go broken, and his whines are too desperate for his liking, but _fuck_ he wants to come, and he wants Osamu to come with him.

‘You should _—ah_ ,’ Atsumu gasps, ‘You should stop letting me be so _selfish_.’

Osamu grunts above him, and then he’s kissing Atsumu, and Atsumu’s kissing back like his life depends on him, and—in a way, it does. They depend on each other—that’s how it’s always been.

‘Fuck,’ Osamu grunts, ‘’Tsumu, I’m coming—‘

‘Inside me,’ Atsumu pleads, _begs_ , and Osamu complies, breathing heavy as he comes inside Atsumu and uses his arms to brace himself and kisses Atsumu so hard and heavy that Atsumu goes lightheaded.

Osamu’s not loud like Atsumu. He doesn’t moan much or make any verbal signal that he’s finished with his orgasm.

But—

Something Atsumu probably shouldn’t know: Osamu always shakes like this when he comes.

But then he can’t linger on it for too long, because his own orgasm’s hitting him in a wave, because he comes as soon as he feels the warm liquid inside his ass—and god, what a disgusting thing to get off to—and he’s whining and his nails are scratching at Osamu’s back and he’s panting so _hard_.

It takes Atsumu a few moments to come back to earth, and by then Osamu’s just staring, looking down at him, and Atsumu can’t quite identify the look in his eyes.

With a grunt, Atsumu pulls Osamu down to cuddle, and then makes a face when he feels the come drip out from his ass.

‘We’ll clean you up later,’ Osamu murmurs, ‘Okay?’

‘Mhm,’ Atsumu agrees, still half-floating in his little cloud of bliss.

And then Osamu kisses him, soft, sweet, and Atsumu wishes again that they can say like this forever.

‘I love you.’ The words come out as barely a whisper, but Atsumu knows Osamu’s always heard him.

Just before he slips into sleep, there’s a whisper of ‘I love you too’.

(‘’Samu.’

‘Yes?’

‘Do you think anyone would want both of us to fuck them at the same time?’)

And then the cycle continues.

Atsumu doesn’t let himself wallow in guilt for long. The thing is, though—he’s not guilty. He can count the number of times he’s felt guilty in his entire life on one hand, and having sex with his brother isn’t one of them.

He ignores it. Osamu seems to do it too, and Atsumu’s only joy is when Osamu kisses him at night and holds him tight and he’s never felt safer. Osamu’s strong, and safe.

He’s _home_ , and that’s what’s important to Atsumu.

Atsumu meets Hinata Shouyou in his second year.

He meets Hinata in his second year, and for once he thinks that he’ll finally get over Osamu now. Kageyama had been an option, but, as much as he was fun to tease, Hinata was better.

"I'll toss to you one of these days... But before that happens, I'll destroy you at the Interhigh, so you better brace yourself."

He doesn’t know what happens, or how it happens, but one second he’s saying that to Hinata and the next—

He sees Osamu across the court, exchanging numbers with the boy.

Atsumu blinks as Osamu walks back and hands his phone to him.

‘What?’

‘I’m not blind, y’know,’ Osamu mutters, ‘Just because you’re a wimp and can’t ask a person out doesn’t mean I can’t.’

Atsumu looks down. There, on Osamu’s phone, is the name _Hinata Shouyou!!!_ with a phone number beside it.

‘Fuck you,’ Atsumu bites out, ‘He knows it’s you.’

‘On the contrary,’ Osamu chuckles, ‘He thought I was you when I went up to him. So you won’t have to pretend to be me or anything. Not that you’d do a great job of it, anyways.’

Atsumu smacks him on the back of his head.

**[Hinata Shouyou!!!]** miya san?

 **[Miya Atsumu]** which one chibi

 **[Hinata** **Shouyou!!!]** uh

 **[Hinata Shouyou!!!]** Atsumu?

 **[Miya Atsumu]** lol yeah

 **[Hinata Shouyou!!!]** Kageyama told me about you!!

 **[Miya Atsumu]** oh did he now

 **[Hinata Shouyou!!!]** yep! He said you pissed him off

 **[Miya Atsumu]** doesn’t everyone piss him off

 **[Hinata Shouyou!!!]** true

 **[Miya Atsumu]** lol

 **[Hinata Shouyou!!!]** anyways, your free this weekend right

 **[Miya Atsumu]** hm maybe

 **[Miya Atsumu]** why

 **[Hinata Shouyou!!!]** Kageyama wants to hang out so he yelled at me to text you cause he’s a huge wimp

 **[Miya Atsumu]** ok chibi whatever you say

 **[Hinata Shouyou!!!]** whats that mean!!!

 **[Miya Atsumu]** nth lol

‘’Samu.’

‘’Samu.’

‘’Samu.’

‘’Samu.’

‘’Samu.’

‘’Samu.’

‘’Samu.’

‘’Samu.’

‘What.’

‘Do you think Chibi-chan’s in love with Tobio-kun?’

A snort. ‘Obviously. If you can see it, then it’s bad.’

Atsumu throws a pillow at him.

‘I have a plan,’ Atsumu announces, sprawling down on their bed, ‘and—‘

‘No.’

‘Mean!’

‘Besides,’ Osamu spares a glance at him, ‘I figured you’d want Hinata to yourself.’

‘I’m not that bad!’

Another glance from Osamu tells him, _yes you are_.

~~( _But only for you_ , Atsumu thinks, and even though he doesn’t say it, he knows they both know it.)~~

They arrange to go out on Saturday, and Atsumu manages to get Osamu to follow him. He just wants his brother to have fun with him. It’s not because he’s nervous or anything.

‘Y’know,’ Osamu tells him, setting two cups of coffee down, ‘I know you’re nervous but stop buzzing for a moment.’

‘I’m not nervous,’ Atsumu says, ignoring the way his voice shakes. Nope, definitely not nervous.

Osamu raises an eyebrow, but otherwise ignores him.

‘Hi!’

Both of them look up, and Hinata’s approaching them with Kageyama in tow.

‘Chibi-chan,’ Osamu says, and before Atsumu can frown, he pulls Hinata down beside him. Osamu winks at him. Bastard.

‘Tobio-kun,’ Atsumu says in turn.

‘Osamu-san, Atsumu-san,’ Kageyama says quietly—addressing them properly, Atsumu notes—and sits beside Atsumu.

The four of them fall into conversation for a while, until Hinata gets up to get his juice and Kageyama gets his milkshake.

And then Kageyama excuses himself to go to the restroom, and then—

‘So, chibi-chan,’ Osamu says, mimicking Atsumu perfectly, ‘What of your feelings for sweet Tobio-kun?’

‘E-eh?’ Hinata almost shrieks, but then turns his head away and—‘I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh?’ Atsumu says, ‘Hm, I’m sure I wasn’t imagining you staring at him longingly, or that you wanted to sit together with him, was I?’

‘Shut up!’ Hinata squeaks, still not looking at them, and Atsumu thinks _cute_ , before thinking, _oh no_.

‘No worries,’ Atsumu grins, and Osamu pats him on the head. ‘We don’t kiss and tell.’

Hinata sends him a confused look, but there’s no time to question it when Kageyama sits down again.

They spend more time together, visiting the shopping mall and laughing (or just small smiles, in Kageyama’s case) and Atsumu makes sure that his ‘accidental’ brushes against Hinata don’t go unnoticed by Kageyama.

By the end of the day, they’re all tired, but—

Atsumu has another trick up his sleeve.

~~(‘It’s just you being selfish,’ his mind’s Osamu whispers.)~~

They’re in front of a (conveniently placed) photobooth, and Atsumu drags Hinata inside. The space is cramped, but that’s how Atsumu wants it.

They pose together, but then for the last picture Atsumu turns and kisses the corner of Hinata’s mouth. Ignoring the squeak that comes out of Hinata, Atsumu leans over and collects the pictures from the slot. He hands half of them to Hinata, who blushes and mumbles something close to ‘ _baka_.’

Atsumu shows off the pictures to Kageyama, who, as predicted, looks more than pissed.

Osamu meets his gaze, and then—

A nod.

A shake of the head, and—

‘Chibi-chan,’ Atsumu whispers, holding Hinata close and whispering in his ear, ‘Come home with me?’

Atsumu can almost _feel_ Hinata’s blush, and he stutters out, ‘Yes!’

(He knows Osamu’s comforting Kageyama. Atsumu’s part is done, and Osamu needs to do his job.)

Atsumu tugs Hinata up to their bedroom, ignoring his question of ‘you guys share a bed?’ and sitting down on the bed.

Hinata sits down too.

‘What do you wanna do?’

‘Huh?’

Atsumu brushes his hair out of his eyes, and says, ‘I brought you home to make Kageyama jealous. If you wanna make out and stuff, that’s cool, but if you don’t then we can just order pizza and play games.’

Hinata doesn’t reply at first, and Atsumu uses the time to properly look at him. Hinata’s small, but then he plays volleyball, so his figure is lean and on top of that, he’s cute as fuck.

‘W-well,’ Hinata says, voice shy and hesitant, ‘I wouldn’t wanna lie to Kageyama.’

Atsumu grins and kisses him.

The first thing Atsumu notices is that Hinata’s kisses are so, _so_ , different from Osamu’s. Whereas Osamu’s wild, gripping, strong, Hinata’s timid and unsure and _fuck_ Atsumu wants to ruin him. _Just like Osamu did to me,_ Atsumu’s traitorous mind whispers.

Atsumu kisses Hinata rougher, and in his haste to forget about his brother at all, he almost misses the whine that comes out of Hinata’s mouth.

He smirks, and he’s sure Hinata can feel it.

Hinata’s hands come up to tangle in his hair, and Atsumu thinks his hands are so much smaller than Osamu’s.

He kisses him harder.

When they part, Hinata’s lips are red and there’s a faint flush on his face. Atsumu moves then, climbing onto the bed and leaning against his pillows, gesturing for Hinata to climb on top of him.

Hinata does, albeit shyly, and Atsumu drags him forward to kiss him again.

His hands wander, coming to rest on Hinata’s ass and _—holy god_ Hinata’s ass is nicer than Atsumu expected.

A whimper leaves Hinata when Atsumu squeezes his ass, and Atsumu tries to muffle the groan that leaves him by kissing Hinata breathless.

‘Hah—‘ Hinata gasps, ‘You-you’re good at this.’

‘Am I?’ Atsumu grins, ‘You’re not so bad at this yourself, Chibi.’

In lieu of responding, Hinata kisses him again, and then moves to suck a bruise into Atsumu’s neck. He gasps, his hands gripping Hinata’s hips harder than probably necessary.

They go like this for a few moments, and then Hinata grinds his hips down breathlessly, and this time Atsumu can’t hold back the moan that leaves his lips.

Hinata gasps and pants as Atsumu thrusts up against him, the friction against his own jeans making it worse, and Atsumu swallows up all of Hinata’s cute noises and _god_ he needs—

Hinata pushes off him suddenly, and Atsumu blinks, the sudden loss of warmth from his arms too jarring and looks at Hinata trying to remove his clothes.

‘Chibi-chan?’ Hinata’s head snaps up. ‘What is it?’ Only then, he notices that his voice is rougher than usual, and there’s the unmistakable glint of lust in Hinata’s eyes.

‘I—‘ Hinata says, ‘I need you to fuck me.’

Atsumu would be lying if he said that it doesn’t turn him on the tiniest bit.

He moves closer to the shorter, tugging off his shirt and leaving open-mouthed kisses on Hinata’s collarbones. He travels downwards, letting his lips trail over the younger’s smooth stomach.

_Osamu’s more toned_ , Atsumu thinks, and then immediately tries to shake out the thought.

‘M-Miya-san,’ Hinata squeaks, but then Atsumu draws his pants down a little and leaves a hickey on the side of his hip. ‘Ah!’

‘Call me Atsumu,’ he drawls, ‘We _are_ gonna fuck, after all.’

Hinata squeaks and hides his face in his hands. Despite his embarrassment, Hinata lifts his hips up so that Atsumu can remove his pants easily.

‘Cute,’ Atsumu murmurs, mouthing Hinata through his boxers—he whines, arching his back and his hands grip Atsumu’s hair, but not too tight.

Atsumu thinks, once again, that Hinata’s hands are too small, and continues, removing Hinata’s boxers once the younger whines out a _please, ‘Tsumu_ and—and Atsumu recoils at the feeling of, _something_ in his chest.

~~(It’s something similar to— _don’t call me that only Osamu’s allowed to call me that—_ )~~

Hinata moans, writhing on the bed as Atsumu licks at his dick, slowly and staring upwards to watch Hinata’s expression. His whines are almost _delicious_ , and Atsumu reaches over to hold Hinata’s hand as the latter tries to cover his mouth with it.

Atsumu keeps sucking him off, and there’s this moment, when Atsumu goes all the way down on his dick and—Hinata comes.

~~Atsumu thanks his brother for fucking the gag reflex out of him.~~

Atsumu’s eyes grow wide, but then he swallows as much as he can.

‘I’m sorry!’ Hinata shrieks, sitting up so suddenly Atsumu gets dizzy, ‘Wait let me clean you up—‘

‘It’s fine, Chibi-chan,’ Atsumu sits up as well, ‘I don’t mind.’

Hinata gapes at him for a moment, until Atsumu says, ‘So you done? You can go wait in the living for me if you want—‘

‘No!’

‘Hm?’ Atsumu raises an eyebrow.

‘I mean,’ Hinata mumbles, ‘I can still. I can still go on. If you want.’

‘You sure?’ Atsumu teases, ‘You seem pretty spent to me.’

‘Yes!’ Hinata says vehemently, launching himself at Atsumu, who’s laughing too much to kiss Hinata back properly. ‘I’ll prove it!’

‘No need to get cocky,’ Atsumu laughs.

Hinata grumbles something, and then Atsumu takes his shirt off, and then they’re kissing again, Hinata’s breath hot on his lips and Atsumu’s almost surprised to see Hinata get hard again after a few minutes.

‘So you weren’t kidding,’ Atsumu laughs breathlessly.

‘Shut up,’ Hinata whines, and is cut off when Atsumu sucks hickeys on the side of his neck. When he’s done, he leans back and admires the myriad of hickeys he’s left on the smaller boy’s neck.

Privately, Atsumu wonders if this is how Osamu sees him.

Atsumu reaches for the half-empty bottle of lube in his nightstand, pouring some on his hands as Hinata watches him with curiosity.

‘What?’

‘Are you,’ Hinata stammers, ‘Are you gonna—‘

‘Put my fingers in myself? Yes,’ Atsumu raises an eyebrow, ‘Unless you’d…?’ He lets himself trail off, hoping Hinata will take the hint.

It seems he does, when he blushes and ducks his head and says, ‘Yeah.’

‘Come here then,’ Atsumu instructs, making Hinata lean his chest on him. Atsumu finds Hinata’s hole easily, slipping in one finger—it’s not as tight as he thought, though.

‘Oh?’ Atsumu smirks, ‘Have you been playing with yourself?’

Hinata hides his face in Atsumu’s neck. Atsumu laughs a tiny bit, and shoves two fingers in Hinata’s ass, ignoring his sudden cry and twists his fingers, looking for—

‘Ah!’

There it is.

He teases that spot, drawing out all kinds of Hinata’s sounds and _god_ Hinata just looks so completely debauched and beautiful and Atsumu throbs with the desire to get inside him.

‘M-more, please,’ Hinata begs, ‘Please, Atsumu.’

‘As you wish.’

Atsumu pushes another finger in, pressing more insistently on Hinata’s prostate, and the other boy keens, gasping and moaning in Atsumu’s ear like it couldn’t get better.

After what he presumes is an enough amount of stretching, Atsumu pulls his fingers out, lubes up his dick, sits back and lets Hinata do all the work for himself. He unzips his jeans though, sighing as the cool air hits him, and mentally pats himself on the back for not wearing boxers today.

‘Wha?’

‘Come on,’ Atsumu taunts, ‘You wanted this, so come get it.’

Admist the haze of lust in Hinata’s eyes, there’s a spark and suddenly, his small hand is loosely fisting around Atsumu’s dick and in the next second Hinata’s lowering himself on his dick and taking it like a champ.

Atsumu groans and grips Hinata’s hips as the younger pants for a moment, before fucking _bouncing_ himself up and down.

‘Fuck, Shouyou,’ slips from Atsumu’s lips, ‘Fuck, baby, you’re doing so good—‘

Hinata’s whine breaks off into a loud moan, and Atsumu kisses him, _hard_ , sucking on Hinata’s bottom lip so hard he’s sure it’ll bruise by the next morning.

‘Atsumu,’ Hinata whines, ‘Please—‘

Atsumu feels his self-control slipping, and Hinata yelps as he’s turned around and placed on his hands and knees. Atsumu fucks into him, hard and slow, and Hinata’s gasping, broken whimpers leaving his lips as Atsumu speeds up and hits his prostate head on.

‘You’re so good,’ Atsumu pants, ‘Shouyou, you’re amazing at his, huh?’

A whimper answers him, and it’s in the next minute that Hinata’s arms give up and he collapses into the mattress. His legs are shaking, Atsumu notes, with a small amount of sadistic pleasure.

‘Come on,’ he coaxes, ‘Come for me.’

Hinata _sobs_ , gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles are white and Atsumu feels Hinata rut against his sheets.

‘Come on, you can do this,’ Atsumu bends over and whispers, ‘Come for me, baby.’

Hinata comes. He arches his back and almost _screams_ , squeezing around Atsumu so tight he’s gasping and seeing stars and he’s coming, he’s coming inside Hinata, but the younger seems too spent to care, lying face-down on the sheets and legs still trembling.

‘Chibi-chan,’ Atsumu says softly. ‘Can you get up?’

Hinata seems to nod, but then shakes his head, letting his body fall limp. Atsumu chuckles and pulls himself out, wincing at the trail of come that follows after.

He joins Hinata, hugging him and smiling slightly as Hinata noses at the joint of his neck and shoulder. Of course Hinata would want to cuddle after sex.

They lie in silence for a while, until Atsumu’s gaze travels to the clock. The glaring red letters read 7:42.

‘Chibi-chan,’ Atsumu says, nudging him a bit. ‘We have to go.’

‘Don’t wanna,’ Hinata mumbles, and Atsumu grins, pressing a kiss to his temple.

‘Come on,’ Atsumu nudges again, ‘Tobio-kun’s probably waiting.’

Hinata’s head shoots up, and Atsumu ruffles his hair when he glares at him.

‘Carry me,’ Hinata says, voice petulant, and Atsumu, ever the gentleman (Osamu laughs in his head), carries him to the bathroom to get them both cleaned up.

‘Chibi-chan, can you stand up?’

‘Yeah,’ Hinata mumbles, leaning against the wall and yawning, letting Atsumu clean him up. ‘Call me Shouyou.’

‘Hm?’

‘We _did_ have sex,’ Hinata laughs softly.

Atsumu laughs along with him.

After they’re done, Atsumu grabs one of his coats and hands it to Hinata. ‘It’s cold outside. Give it back to me some other time.’

Hinata thanks him, and even though Atsumu’s not really ‘attracted’ to him, Hinata’s still cute as fuck.

(‘Atsumu-san, your hair—‘

‘Leave it. Let the world know I had a good fuck.’)

‘Finally,’ Osamu says, turning from where he’s talking with Kageyama.

‘I was doing stuff,’ Atsumu says.

‘I was stuff,’ Hinata pipes in, albeit with a blush on his cheeks.

Kageyama looks like he’s considering homicide.

‘Well,’ Osamu drawls, ‘You better get going. You’re delayed enough as it is.’

The two first years nod, and Hinata waves a goodbye to them before running to catch up Kageyama’s impressive speedwalk.

‘I hope you had fun,’ Osamu says lightly, but there’s a hint of something foreign in his voice.

Atsumu shrugs and ignores it. ‘You weren’t there, so yeah.’

‘Har har, very funny.’

Atsumu glances at him out of the corner of his eye. Osamu’s staring at the ground, but there’s—his eyes are shining, for some reason or other.

‘’Samu?’

Osamu turns to look at him. ‘Hm?’

‘You okay?’ Atsumu hates how his voice sounds.

‘Yeah, why?’

‘No reason.’

The walk is silent the rest of the way home.

‘Atsumu.’

‘Hm.’

A sigh. ‘I know you’re a hormonal shit, but could you at least clean up after yourself? You’re not the only one sleeping on this goddamn bed, y’know.’

‘Okay, okay, geez, I’ll clean it up,’ Atsumu raises an eyebrow, ‘Calm down, what’s gotten into you?’

It’s not the way Osamu avoids his gaze, nor is it the way Osamu seems to hesitate in his answer before he says, ‘Nothing,’ and it’s not even the way his voice takes ok a hard edge.

It’s the way, when he passes by Atsumu, he seems to sag, the way he physically seems to have all the fight drained out of him. And Atsumu worries.

He’s never seen his brother like this before.

‘’Samu?’ Atsumu asks softly, holding his brother’s arm.

‘Nothing,’ Osamu repeats, and yanks his arm out from Atsumu’s grasp.

Atsumu changes the sheets, feeling like Osamu’s ripped out his heart as well.

The air is stiff as they go to bed, and Atsumu tries not to flinch at the way Osamu curls up on his own side of the bed.

It doesn’t seem like a big thing, but—

But Atsumu’s heart breaks anyways.

Atsumu doesn’t sleep. He tosses and turns, and he’s sure he’s disturbing Osamu but he _can’t sleep_ so there’s nothing else he can do.

When Atsumu falls asleep after one, he’s woken up again by—

_Something._

His head is aching, and his neck’s cramped from staying in his position, but there’s a distinct weight on him—Osamu must have migrated onto his side of the bed—and a wetness on his shoulder.

Wait—what?

Atsumu tenses up, but then some time passes and there’s nothing. Atsumu’s just on the verge of sleep again when there’s a wet sniffle and something that sounds suspiciously like _crying_.

Osamu—no.

It can’t be, Atsumu thinks, furrowing his eyebrows, because the last time Osamu cried was when they were _five_ and that was because his knee was pretty badly skinned. Atsumu had cried right along with him.

On the other hand, there’s proof right here, that Osamu’s _crying_ , that he’s holding on to Atsumu as if he’s a lifeline, like Atsumu’s the only thing keeping him from doing something _bad._

Atsumu freezes. He doesn’t know what to do, and he worries moving and signaling that he’s awake will only make the situation worse. But—he can’t just _ignore_ Osamu like this.

Despite everything, despite all their fights and twisted ways and charades at being lovers they’re still brothers and best friends and Atsumu can’t let him suffer. Osamu’s chest heaves, and then the wetness grows again, muffled sobs reaching Atsumu’s ears and fuck it’s so so painful.

It’s so painful to hear Osamu like this.

Just as he’s made up his mind to speak—

‘You can stop pretending to be asleep, y’know,’ Osamu says, voice croaky and breaking on random words, ‘I can feel your heartbeat.’

‘Sorry,’ Atsumu whispers, not sure why he’s apologizing or why he’s whispering, but Osamu rolls off him anyways.

_Come back_ , he wants to say, _come back and never let go._

‘What is it?’ Atsumu eventually dares to ask.

‘Hm?’

‘I haven’t seen you cry like this since we were five. What happened?’

‘Hm,’ Osamu says, and then, ‘Nothing.’

‘Come on,’ Atsumu presses, ‘Tell me what’s wrong, ‘Samu.’

‘…nothing.’

‘’Samu,’ Atsumu pleads, desperation leaking into his voice even as he tries to hide it.

Osamu says nothing, just moves closer, and Atsumu finds himself wrapped in a bone-crushing hug—and Osamu’s shaking.

Atsumu strokes his brother’s hair, whispering ‘it’s alright’s and ‘you’re gonna be fine’ and ‘I’m here’s over and over again, until Osamu’s shaking has stopped and his breaths feel more regular on Atsumu’s cheek.

‘Wanna talk?’ Atsumu asks softly, caring, and it isn’t often he acts like a ‘brother’, but Osamu needs him and Atsumu supposes he might need to be the big brother once in a while.

There’s a long stretch of silence, and then Osamu whispers, ‘Hinata.’

Atsumu frowns, ‘Chibi-chan?’

‘Hm, yeah.’

‘Is he what’s wrong?’

‘Hm.’

Atsumu tries to think. Hinata—well, he’s felt an initial attraction to the short spiker, but nothing much lies beyond that.

Wait, what if—what if _Osamu_ has a crush on Chibi-chan? Sure, they’re identical twins, but do they have to be identical in liking people too?

‘’Tsumu, idiot,’ Osamu says, voice muffled, ‘I wasn’t. I wasn’t jealous of you.’

‘Huh?’

‘I said it.’

_I wasn’t. I wasn’t jealous of you._

The words ring in his head. But. If Osamu wasn’t jealous of him, then—

Realization dawns on Atsumu harder than one of Aran’s spikes.

Osamu was jealous of Hinata.

‘’S-Samu—‘

‘Shut up,’ Osamu says, and usually it’d be in jest, but now Osamu sounds close to crying again, and Atsumu just wants to hold him close and keep him safe. ‘I—I know it’s bad, okay. I know we’re brothers and it’s _wrong_ and that we shouldn’t be fucking, but!’

He stops to take a breath, and then, ‘We shouldn’t even be fucking, and then I have to—I have to go and get _jealous_ like some immature schoolgirl and then. And then I—I just—‘

Osamu breaks off, voice choking on a sob, and Atsumu holds him tight, as tight as he can, and kisses him on the lips.

Atsumu squeezes his eyes shut, because as much as Osamu said everything, there’s still a possibility that he might punch Atsumu in the face for being an idiot.

‘Atsumu,’ Osamu murmurs against his lips, and his body sags like all the fight has drained out of him, ‘I love you.’

Atsumu’s world stops for a moment.

They’re brothers. They’re close, maybe closer than the usual brothers, and then some. They care for each other, and they love each other.

And they’ve said it before. They’ve said it in passing, said it ironically, sarcastically, and even after they fuck.

Osamu’s never, ever said it with this much emotion before.

‘I—‘ Atsumu’s voice catches in his throat, ‘I love you too, ‘Samu.’

He feels his twin smile.

Nothing changes. They fight, and they yell and they get angry and they cry and they’re never perfect.

But they also smile and cuddle and hold hands when no one’s looking, and they kiss each other under their covers and giggle like idiots at two in the morning because Atsumu woke up with a boner, saw Osamu looming over him with a mask of some celebrity he’d forgotten the name of, and promptly peed himself.

What they’re doing is not right, will never be, but the feelings haven’t faded and Atsumu’s selfish, as Osamu’s always said.

But—both of them are. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t be here at all.

Atsumu smiles, and Osamu smiles at him.

In the future, they’ll live together. It’ll be a nice, quaint house in the suburbs, and they’ll adopt more than five dogs. Two of them will be named after themselves.

In the future, they’ll be on the national volleyball team. They’ll dominate the world and people will bow in honor of them. They’ll be known as the golden Miya twins, one slightly more exuberant, but by no means higher than.

In the future, they’ll laugh and hug and kiss and cry and love each other just as they loved when they were children, and they’ll live to see Kageyama and Hinata become the new famous duo. They’ll see their friends’ laugh and cry with them, and they’ll shrug off anyone who asks if either one of the brothers are taken.

In the future, they’ll be happier.

But this isn’t the future yet, and Atsumu laughs with Osamu as they wrestle and knock each other off their bed, destroy their lamp, and kiss each other like there’s no tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this almost entirely to halsey somgs i'll put up a playlist for this later  
> constructive criticism is encouraged and please point out if there are any mistakes ples
> 
> come visit me at ryneisaterriblefan!!


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